The Reunion
by Smileyfax
Summary: It's been many decades since Camp Grizzly, but Daria and Amelia have once again reunited. Except Daria is now an octogenarian bank robber, and has shanghaied Amelia into driving the getaway car. Naturally, Amelia isn't having the cheeriest time.


"Daria! You came!" Amelia stood up from the counter in the cafe and walked up to her old campmate, embracing her in a warm hug.

"Hi, Amelia," Daria replied resignedly. She looked around the diner. "No Skip?"

Amelia shook her head, a sad look on her face. "No...Skip died a few years back."

The three of them - Amelia, Skip, and Daria - were really the only people who had cared about (or just remembered, in Daria's case) Camp Grizzly. The last time the three of them had been together was over twenty years ago - developers had bought out Camp Grizzly, and Skip had tied himself to one of the cabins in a last-ditch effort to save the place.

Daria had come with a bucket of popcorn. Amelia had come to see if Daria would come. Ever since, the Camp Grizzly 'reunions' had taken place at the diner. Daria had never bothered to come...until now.

"How are the kids?" Daria asked.

"Oh! They've got babies of their own now!" Amelia pulled out her smartphone and showed Daria the relevant pictures, with her old camp friend making the appropriate appreciative sounds (albeit in her standard monotone). After she finished, she turned back to Daria. "Say, how's your hubby Tom?"

"He died of a stroke a while back," Daria shrugged.

Horrified, Amelia gasped and began to tear up. "Oh God, Daria, I'm so sorry!" She threw her arms around Daria and gave her another hug. "My Skip...your Tom...why did our husbands have to leave us?"

"I don't know about Skip, but Tom decided he'd join a game of baseball with some of Jane's grandkids, hit a home run, and the asshole's heart gave out before he even crossed first base."

Amelia giggled. "Oh, I'm sorry, Daria, but the way you said that was funny."

"Yeah. I laughed when he died, too."

"Uh...huh..." Amelia decided to quickly change the subject. "What's in the bag?"

The bag referred to a large duffel bag (occasionally referred to as a 'man purse'), and Amelia hadn't noticed it upon Daria's first entrance.

"Oh, just...stuff. Say, Amelia, I don't have a car -"

"Then how did you get here?"

"...The bus. Anyway...do you think you could give me a ride to the bank? I need to run an errand in there."

"Sure thing, Daria! Let's go right now." As they left, Amelia (but not Daria) failed to notice the dirty look the waitress gave them for coming into the diner but not ordering anything.

On the way to the bank, Amelia tried to engage Daria in conversation several times, but her friend was too busy fiddling with the zippers on the duffel bag. "What're you going to do at the bank, Daria?"

"Oh...I think I'll make a withdrawal."

"Really? How much money do you think you'll get?"

"A lot." Daria was being very cryptic.

Amelia pulled into the parking lot and keyed off the ignition. "Wait!" Daria said, excited suddenly. "Um. Can you keep the car running?"

"Okay. You don't think you'll be long, do you? Because I don't want my car's charge to run down..."

"I shouldn't be more than a few minutes, tops. Um...thanks again, Amelia."

"No problem!" she chirped. After Daria got out, Amelia turned the radio on to her favorite light jazz station, gently humming along and bobbing her head to the rhythm of the -

A loud sound rang out, and Amelia immediately jerked her head towards the bank. "Was that a gunshot?" she asked herself aloud, and worry began to set in to her stomach. What if somebody was robbing the bank? What if the robber shot Daria? What if Daria was DEAD?!

The questions began to eat away at Amelia, until finally she was about to call 911. As she was pulling her phone out of her purse, though, she saw a figure walking out of the bank, shotgun in one hand, duffel bag in another, a ski mask over their face. "IT'S THE ROBBER!" she screamed in panic, flooring the accelerator pedal. (Which would have worked well, if the car hadn't been pointed at the brick wall next to the bank's doors, and if she hadn't been in park).

The robber made a beeline for her car, and Amelia began hyperventilating. "Amelia, for the - will you just calm down already?"

The terror at the robber knowing her name made Amelia do the unthinkable and punch the robber. Well, try to. The robber just moved out of the way of her fist, and took off the ski mask.

"D-D-D-D-" Amelia stuttered out.

"Yeah, Amelia, it's me, Daria. You wanna get going now?"

"Huh?"

Daria cupped a hand to her ear for effect. "You do hear the police sirens, don't you? They're coming here to arrest the person who robbed this bank, i.e. me, and her getaway driver, i.e. you. Do you really want to stick around?"

Amelia vigorously shook her head. "But wait! I'm...I'm not...I can't be...look..."

"Do you really want to be responsible for when the police gun me down, Amelia? Can you really have that on your conscience?"

Amelia took a moment to digest this. Then, she shifted into reverse, looked behind her, and floored the accelerator pedal.

XXXXXXXXXX

I've been rolling this idea around in my head for a while now, but only when I struck upon having Daria and Amelia be old folks did it really click in my head. 


End file.
